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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25266055">No Glory in the West</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayaanle/pseuds/zemenipearls'>zemenipearls (ayaanle)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dread South [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A lot of trauma, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Cottagecore, Cowboys &amp; Cowgirls, F/F, F/M, Frontier, Horses, Intimacy, OT3, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rodeos, Soft Pining, Southern Gothic, Texas, The Wild West, This one has less plot than Devil Turns the Porchlight on and is heavy on the romance just fyi, Western AU, and raciallly insensitive language (mostly from Jarl Brum), warning for some derogatory language (mostly from Jarl Brum)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:22:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25266055</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayaanle/pseuds/zemenipearls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: This fic was started and outlined before the release of ROW. </p><p>Hanne has lost a lot. She's lost her connection to her culture thanks to her father - a ruthless and pious man. She's lost her mother. The Great Depression has ravaged her communities and life, and she finds solace in the arms of her half brother's wife - Nina Zenik.</p><p>Leoni Hilli is a self-sufficient daughter of ranchers in Texas. Through luck of the draw she is doing well enough, but the threat of the white ranchers around her are always on the horizon. But she soldiers on, wiping the dust from her eyes and digging her heels into the dirt.</p><p>Adrik Zhabin is a Russo-Jewish immigrant, who is seeking something new out West after a lifetime of hardships and persecution. </p><p>Their lives became entangled with each other when they all end up at the Hilli ranch. As their lives become upended by personal battles and the world at large, they are able to find comfort with each other.</p><p>Warnings for a lot of heavy identity-related themes around queerness, indigenous identity, and blackness in frontierism / the wild west.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hanne Brum/ Leoni Hilli / Adrik Zhabin, Hanne Brum/Nina Zenik, Leoni Hilli / Hanne Brum, Leoni Hilli/Adrik Zhabin, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dread South [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue - A Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>San Carlos Apache Reservation. 1910.</strong>
</p><p>7 year old Hanne loved being outside. She loved the horses - she loved the rugged mountains in the background. She loved playing with the neighbor boys and running wild like the wind, laughing and having fun. Her mother stood on the doorstep as a car approached their little makeshift house.</p><p>“Come back inside,” her mother said. She worried at the hem of her apron. “You’ll get too dark.”</p><p>Hanne looked down at her arms. “But then I’ll be like you mama.” Her father came up from behind her and tugged at one of her braids. She giggled, brushing the dirt off her hands on her dress. “Did you have fun at church?” she asked. Hanne knew her papa didn’t live with them all the time, and visited. He went to church with his other family. Papa said that Hanne was his fun family.</p><p>Her Papa picked her up and spun her around. “There’s my little girl,” he said. He nuzzled his face into her neck. “But your mama is right. You better get inside before you look like a picaninny.”</p><p>Hanne pouted and obeyed her father. Once inside, her parents disappeared into the living room. She looked around as she swung her legs, too short to hit the ground. Her parents were arguing, she knew that. They argued a lot and Hanne wished that they wouldn’t. She wished a lot of things, but she especially wished her Papa would live with them.</p><p>Maybe if he lived with them, mama would be happier. Maybe there wouldn’t be holes in the roof. But Hanne loved her people too, even if their houses looked the same. It was her entire world.</p><p>Finally her parents came out. Her mama was crying.</p><p>“Hanne - you’re going to go to school near Papa starting next year. A special boarding school where you’ll be able to live there.” He smiled at her. Hanne liked when her Papa smiled. “Isn’t that nice?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. with hesitant feet and anxious eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW: Emotional and Physical Abuse</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>The Outskirts of Lubbock, Texas</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>November 1934</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>What Hanne loved about Nina was how all-encompassing she was. The scent of her, the feel of her, the way she dominated the room. At the moment her half-brother’s wife was regaling a tale around the kitchen table. Hanne’s dress was simple but it still scratched at her skin. She felt so constricted, her long hair pulled back into some semblance of an updo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nina looked the perfect housewife, on the other hand. All generous curves and soft belly, her face round and delightful. She commanded a table effortlessly as she flattered Hanne’s father. Jarl Brum. Hanne felt awkward at the table - Nina was everything her father wanted her to be. Womanly, in the home. White. She glanced down at her skin. Years of refusing to go outside had turned the rich russet brown to a dusky tan color that at least made her pass enough for her father. Her thick brown hair with coppery undertones was forced back, even if she missed the long plaits her mother would put into them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To a discerning eye, they would know immediately that Hanne was not white, but having such a powerful man as her father was the strongest protector. She took a bite of her food as Nina exaggerated a story about chasing after the kids. The picture perfect life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matthias took after their father in all the ways Hanne didn’t. Sure they were both tall and strong, but Matthias had his blonde hair and blue eyes, square jaw, and all-American bearing. He was allowed to do all the things Hanne wasn’t. He was allowed to kiss who Hanne wasn't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoved her feelings and thoughts into a box as memories from her childhood reared their ugly heads. Instead she listened and nodded and when it was time to clean up she volunteered to do the dishes. Everyone else went outside and she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't dislike her family. Most days she even loved them. But days like this were difficult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne heard the noises of men laughing and children playing outside when she felt a hand on her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad you could make it," Nina said. She smiled that brilliant beautiful smile and Hanne felt herself melting. How could she ever be so resentful? "I miss you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I miss you too," Hanne confessed. Before she knew it Nina leaned forward and their lips softened against each other. Sweet. Soft. Just like Nina herself and the nights they stole together, Hanne tracing her fingers on Nina's soft skin and digging into her curves. The scent of Nina in her sheets when she woke up. "When can I see you again?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Matthias leaves on a business trip tomorrow. I'm sure the kids would love for Aunt Hanne to visit for a few days." Nina traced a hand down the side of her face, trailing down to Hanne's neck where her pulse fluttered, and to the subtle v of her neckline. "Will you stay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course," Hanne whispered. And then Nina was gone. She took several deep breaths, clutching the kitchen sink edge as the memory of Nina’s fingers trailing her collarbone burned itself in her mind, as she dreamed about Nina’s cherry red lips smearing lipstick on her mouth playfully. How Nina would tell her Matthias never touched her that way, didn’t know what she liked the way Hanne liked. Hanne’s entire life hinged on those magical nights together. They made everything feel worth it. Lifted the heaviness of her past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helped that she absolutely loved Evelyn, Iris, and Samuel. When she packed her trunk, her father was sitting in the living room, reading a paper. She kept her head down and walked as quietly as she could but there was no way to avoid the thumping of her trunk. Hanne flinched as she heard the paper fold down. “Are you off to your brother’s?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good family,” he mused. “Good American family. Make sure you don’t act like a savage around those kids while the man of the house is gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe someday you’ll marry a man like that. Hardworking, red blooded. You’re only 24, you have a couple years left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shame burned under her cheeks. “Yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you a ride. It’s not ladylike to walk that distance you know. I hate when you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne missed the days when she had run outside, when she had rolled around in the grass free-spirited. The muscles in her legs and arms and shoulders had long gone soft. She kept her head down as her father brought her trunk to the car and opened the door for her. She muttered her thanks and flinched again when he slammed the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jarl spent his time talking about how great it was that Matthias already had three children and a pleasant stay at home wife.</span>
  <em>
    <span>If only you knew,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought, as she glanced at the crucifix on the dash. Her father could recite the bible backwards and forwards. One of the many hypocrisies. Hanne forced herself not to think about it again - the painful memories of her mom. Of everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the Helnik house, the kids were in their matching clothes and Hanne ran up to hug them. Iris was the oldest at eight years old. Nina had married Matthias, her high school sweetheart, at sixteen. By seventeen she had Iris. Then she had Samuel, then Evelyn. Hanne had known Nina then too. Nina had been her first kiss in high school, after her father deemed her appropriate enough to move in with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead Nina married Matthias, and Hanne looked forward to the weeks when Matthias drove out of town for work, when she could pretend it was them having this life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let go of her nieces and nephew, thanking her father for bringing in her trunk. “If you ladies have any trouble and need a man you just give me a ring, you hear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course Dad,” Nina said with a big smile. “Thank you for bringing Hanne. You know I just get so nervous out here by myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne zoned out, looking at the decorations. The house was nice - bigger than most people around them had. The kitchen was lovely and the sunlight streamed through the windows - the furniture was comfortable. Nina was a terrible cook but that was okay - Hanne often came over to help them. It was the only “woman quality” she had, according to her dad. She was too tall, too dark, too athletic. He didn’t think so during the summers they spent together before, teaching her to ride horses and shoot guns. Now he regretted it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably regretted her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the evening playing games on the lawn, and then sitting around the radio listening to the story hour. Hanne made them a filling stew, and she was able to pretend. Nina, of course, never showed her affection in front of the kids. In front of anyone, really. The crucifixes adorning the house made it obvious how Matthias would feel. But when they went to bed, Nina removed the one that hung over the headboard as she slipped into her night shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gorgeous,” Hanne said. “Perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nina grinned as she crawled onto the bed. “You’re beautiful too. I wish I was good at poetry so I could write an ode to your lips and all the things they make me feel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat rushed to her face as she looked at Nina. They whiled the night away in each other’s arms, falling asleep as the sun began its hazy ascent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne smiled as she washed and got dressed in the morning, feeling more hopeful than usual. She decided to put on one of her pairs of trousers instead of her dress. She could run after the children more. Play more. Be herself. Nina walked up to her and buttoned up Hanne's shirt, her fingers like sparks of electricity whenever they brushed on bare skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne enjoyed the work she could do for Nina. Lifting, painting, reaching high places, opening cans. Sure, Nina could do it all herself. But now she wasn't walking on eggshells around her father, scared to breathe too loudly. Where she wasn't confined to the walls of their home, even when the fresh air was within reach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Music played in the kitchen as Hanne prepared snacks for the kids. Cab Calloway warbled and she danced to herself. Nina walked in, in all her glory. Nina perched herself between Hanne and the counter. "I can't reach the jar of peaches up there," she motioned. "Can you help me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne rolled her eyes as she reached up, Nina hooking an arm around her waist as she did so and leaning forward to kiss Hanne's neck briefly. Before Hanne knew it she had Nina lifted against the counter, smiling as she traced a tongue on Nina's lower lip before catching it between her teeth, Hanne's hand moving up the outside of Nina's thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud crash brought Hanne down into her body and she whipped around to see the last person she expected. Her father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face was drained of color as he looked at them, his mouth opened in shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Papa, I can explain -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut your mouth you whore," he said, cutting her off. Shock gave way to his face distorting, becoming an ugly purple. Nina had scrambled away and he gripped Hanne's jaw painfully between his thumb and index finger, digging into her skin. "Coming into your brother's home and acting like a man."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne closed her eyes as he spat at her, tears welling in them. She tried to do what she normally did and move away from her body. He slapped her hand away as she tried to wipe her face and she looked over at Nina, who was looking away. Silent. "You'll return home at once."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next time Hanne was allowed outside the house was a month and a half from when she was caught. Her bruises had faded and she was given a constricting dress in a nearly Victorian style to go to church in. Matthias had visited but Nina was mysteriously ill every time he came over with the kids. The car ride was silent and Hanne looked down at her hands the entire time, only glancing up when the car rolled to a stop in front of the Colored church. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll pick you up when the service is done," her father said in a low voice. She quickly looked down at her hands again. "You will be waiting out front. I'm still considering sending you to be a cook at the school."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat constricted. "Yes sir."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne kept her head down as she walked through the crowd of people who looked like her. Tejanos, Black Americans, and Native Americans attended this church from far and wide across the rural panhandle of Texas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most gave her friendly smiles and waves but she looked down at her feet instead. There was food available, being doled out by a black woman in a clean, simple linen dress. Most of the people had the gaunt look of malnourishment and Hanne felt guilty. She wasn't starving despite the depression. Wasn't one of the people scrounging for dandelions to boil into water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman looked up and smiled at her. She had dark skin and a flushed face, even if she was lean her cheeks were round. "Come have some please. It's from my farm."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne thought about the tasteless gruel her father had literally shoved into her face that morning, and how she had to clean the waste of food off. "If you don't mind," she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm Leoni Hilli by the by," she said, extending her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My name is Hanne. Hanne Alvarez," she said, using her mother's last name. She didn't want to be associated with her father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Welcome Hanne. It's modest but it's what I got. Your first time here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne nodded. "Yes ma'am."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"None of that ma'am nonsense, we must be the same age." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne smiled at her, and was surprised at the warmth in her chest at the kindness. "Thank you, Leoni."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you here by yourself?" She asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," she said. "My father goes to the white church a couple miles down."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni raised her eyebrows but if she had opinions, kept them to herself. "You stick by me, Miss Hanne. I'll make sure you're taken care of. You'll want to avoid the first three pews that's where all the judgmental families sit. Now I thought we were called here to witness for Him not to judge but what do I know. Miss Hazel has the best peaches and Miss Loretta is nice to everyone except Señora Anita."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne enjoyed Leoni's chatter about the congregation. There didn't seem to be any ulterior motive as Leoni passed her unsweetened tea and Hanne found herself able to relax a little. They sat several pews back, the church chilly in the Texas winter, even if the sky was a flawless blue color with only threadbare clouds in the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dutifully waited for her father at the end of the service, a pamphlet Leoni had given her tucked into her decolletage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne started going to church religiously, even if she never felt religious. The voice of the Tejano preacher was comfortable and she even brought food to giveaway alongside Leoni. The woman was kind, even if she was private beyond private. There was no wedding band on her finger and she never mentioned family other than a cousin in Alabama. But each week Hanne saw that she was tired and worn out, no matter how much she tried to hide it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One Sunday, her father actually trusted her. Said he needed to stay at his and Matthias's church longer, so she would "need to keep herself busy" for an hour. So Hanne approached Leoni, who was sitting under a tree on top of a small blanket. She was gorgeous in her checkered purple dress, her tight coils rolled and pinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne forced her sinful thoughts to the back of her mind. "May I join you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni looked up, registering Hanne, a wide smile overcoming her face. "Of course," she said. She scooted over, making room for Hanne on the blanket. "Sorry Miss Hanne, I was just thinking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tipped her head back to catch the sun and Hanne's mind raced at the image. Her father thought Negroes were unnatural, facing discrimination because of some offense to God. Hanne never believed that - and there was nothing unnatural about Leoni. "What were you thinking about?" She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Real boring stuff." She gave Hanne a cheeky grin. "Economics and agriculture."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne saw her opening. "I love farming," she said. "Although my father only lets me have a small garden I would love to do more."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni regarded her with big, dark eyes. Hanne felt heat rush to her face as Leoni looked her up and down quickly. "Pardon my language. Your father is an ass, I'm well acquainted with him." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne looked down. "I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be. You clearly aren't him." Leoni sighed. "My farm ain't doing so well. The men I hire don't respect me since my folks died, and living alone terrifies me. The Klan getting mighty bold these days and it's only a matter of time before I ain't quick enough to get my gun at night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne's eyes widened at the calm frankness Leoni spoke about her own death. "What about men here? From the church?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They help when they can but times is hard Miss Hanne.What if you helped me? I can't pay much but I can offer some fresh milk, meat, to supplement it. I can have the pastor here convince your father. We got a passing fellow," she said. "You look strong. And a hard worker. Am I right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne had tried to be as meek as possible after being caught with Nina. To make herself small and weak - and Leoni saw straight through it. "Yes," she answered truthfully. "One condition," she said. "I want to move there. I'll sleep in the stable if I have to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nonsense, I have a spare bedroom." Leoni extended her hand. "It's a deal Hanne Alvarez."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Dust Bowl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>December 1934.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hanne showed up at her house in the dead of night and a bag on her shoulders, Leoni didn’t ask questions. When Jarl Brum showed up at the church in a fit of rage the next Sunday, Leoni didn’t answer questions. What she did know was that Hanne Alvarez was a gift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Leoni sifted through letters, payroll, and everything else that running the modest ranch took, Hanne was a quick student on the farm. She took care of the horses and the stable, rounded up the pigs, and generally loved the animals. With that off her shoulder, Leoni was able to focus on the many repairs around the place. It wasn’t safe for her to go into town too much, a single woman. She tried not to tell too many people her parents had died and she was living alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now Hanne was just a room away. She was becoming gloriously bronze in the chilly winter sun and even smiling sometimes when she thought Leoni wasn’t looking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still the Depression raged on, and every day she heard more and more about ranches being closed down. Being possessed by the banks. The white folks would stand in solidarity with each other sure, and flood the auctions without making any bids. But Leoni didn’t have that protection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne was riding one of the horses, practicing her showmanship. The Rodeo was coming up in February, and Leoni intended to participate. After all there was a chance it could be her last. She often considered giving up the Hilli ranch and living with her cousin Jesper. She hadn’t heard from him since he swung by with a fish-mouthed white boy with a strange name and took one of her best horses. But he was family. A letter would come when it came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She balanced a tray of some cheese, fruit, and iced tea for Hanne. Leoni waved her hand at the woman who nodded and walked the horse over, swinging her leg over and landing with a thud on her feet. Leoni had to admit she was a striking woman, and she attributed it all to Hanne’s Apache mother. Tall with strong cheekbones and light brown skin, her hair was thick and a coppery brown, barely contained under the hat she wore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Leoni,” she said with a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Hanne,” Leoni replied with a grin. “You’ve been working hard, thought you might want a treat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni felt a surge of guilt. They had more food than most people, but Leoni still couldn’t afford to actually pay her. Just a roof, some food, and the occasional stipend. Even Leoni was starting to become lean. As a teenager she’d been teased for her body - wide hips with thighs that filled up more than a handful of whoever she was flirting with at the time. Her clothes hung looser but so did everybody’s. That was the way of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Hanne gratefully dug into the food and sat down on the stairs of the porch. “How’s repairs going?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not bad. Plumbing is all fixed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so handy,” Hanne said. Not as a jibe at Leoni for being ‘unfeminine’. There was admiration in her voice. “You just look at things and understand them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In another life, Leoni would have gone to university. But she was here instead, trying to continue her family’s legacy. She was one of the lucky ones - most Negroes in America didn’t own land outright. They were stuck as sharecroppers, the new form of oppression to replace the old one.  “Thank you Miss Hanne,” she said. “I like it. I’m good at it.” Unlike keeping this place going. She didn’t have the means to do what really needed to be done, to hire who she needed. “I owe you a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” Hanne said, waving her hand away. “I like being out here. The sky. The ranch. The horses. And you’re quite nice. Best not kick me out when you land a husband,” she teased. But Leoni saw the fear, no matter how well hidden. It made her curious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a home here as long as you need,” Leoni said emphatically. She looked at her farm. It wasn't like the ones nearby. She didn't have all the fancy mechanical equipment and had too much grass everywhere, but it was ok. She focused the last few years on livestock. Only a small section of land was cleared for her crops, the rest wild. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It hasn't rained in awhile," Hanne said lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An understatement. The driest year Leoni had ever seen, the air dusty even in winter. "We'll keep rationing and fill what barrels we can. We'll get through it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day Leoni took the truck and barrels to the well, starting the arduous weekly process of getting water for the week. It took several trips and her arms ached. But that was life. Whispers had reached her about the drought, the worst in years. About the dust storms up north ravaging people. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please Lord spare me this at least</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she prayed. But when she walked back home with sore muscles, she smelled delicious food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne was standing in the kitchen. She had stripped out of her dirty work clothes and wore simple denim pants and a white undershirt that shouldn’t have looked as good as it did. Her hair, thick and beautiful, was tied back with ribbon. “Welcome! I thought you might want some food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni wiped her forehead with her sleeve. She would need to wash off, but she hated using the water that had to last them as long as possible right away. So she sat down at the table Hanne set for her. The scent of spices boiling in the pot made her stomach rumble, and Hanne ladled a bowl of stew for her. It was watery - all stews had to be watery on a failing farm - but the aroma was enticing and the heat of peppers and seasoning made Leoni feel fuller than she had in months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is amazing,” she said. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like cooking,” Hanne said with a prideful smile. “And you’re much better than other people I’ve cooked for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Miss Hanne,” Leoni said with a smile, leaning forward to put her head in her hands. Hanne looked down with those dusty eyelashes and Leoni distracted herself by looking at the woman’s hair. “Let me do something for you - want me to plait your hair?” Hanne’s eyes widened. “You sure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni nodded. “Let’s clean up first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She warmed a pot of water on the stove as she cleaned, insisting that Hanne just rest. They started a fire against the chilly night air and pushed the couch closer to it, Leoni enjoying the warm flames and the way they crackled and popped. She played Ella Fitzgerald on the record player and sat on the couch, motioning for Hanne to sit between her legs on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne had beautiful, thick, copper-brown hair that went down to near her waist. It was unfashionably long compared to the women in the films, but Leoni thought it suit her just fine, as she balanced the warm pot on her lap and had Hanne lean back, massaging soap onto her scalp to clean out the day’s work. She hummed along with Ella as her fingers worked, her heart quickening as Hanne’s face softened and relaxed. She then put oil into the tresses and dried them with an old shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were silent as Leoni worked her comb, lovingly taking the tangles and fairy knots out, not missing the way Hanne would lightly brush against the inside of her legs. Hanne didn’t wince even as Leoni braided the hair tight against her scalp in two matching plaits, smoothing the strands and then pinning them up in a crown around her face to dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All done,” she said softly. “You should sit by the fire to help it dry, I can’t have you catching a cold.” Leoni didn’t know when the music had stopped, so she got up to put on Billie instead. When she turned around she sucked in a breath. Hanne was sitting with her back to the fire, eyes closed and a small smile on her face, swaying softly to the music. She was beautiful. Leoni moved to sit close to her, thinking of the weight of her hair, and the feeling of Hanne between her thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom used to braid my hair like this,” Hanne said. “When I lived in San Carlos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni grabbed one of the blankets from the couch and sat next to Hanne, putting it around the two of them. Hanne leaned against her, and Leoni enjoyed the warmth from the fire and the woman besides her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni had no idea when she had fallen asleep, but she woke up during the night with the embers low, and the two of them cuddled under the blanket. She was tangled with Hanne’s limbs, their legs fitted against each other and Hanne half on top of her. Leoni buried her face into the nook of Hanne’s neck and closed her own eyes again, smelling the earthiness of Hanne and the sweet-smelling oil she had rubbed into her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>* * * * *</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Leoni woke up in the morning, Hanne was gone and it was cold under the blanket. She walked back to her room to change into a long skirt that went to her mid-calf, boots, and a simple blouse. She let her large curls loose as she ran to grab eggs from the chicken coop to make breakfast for the two of them. The house was drafty, and the winter wind brought dust inside no matter how hard she tried to clean. It was dustier than any season she’d ever seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hanne walked in, she stunk to high heaven and went straight to the wash room. She cut a dashing figure in denim trousers and a work shirt, a bandanna tied around her face and hair tucked under her hat. She was right - the air was filthier than she’d ever seen, and now she was getting worried for the animals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hanne, I think we should move the horses indoors, and as much of the livestock as we can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne nodded, tucking into the breakfast she prepared. “Yes miss Leoni.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni sat next to her at the table. She couldn’t shake the feelings he needed to pick up more water from the well. She would patch up some of the old barrels she had sitting around, and dip into her threadbare savings to get extra feed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go into town. Do you mind coming with me when we finish?” Leoni asked. “I don’t like going to these places alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Hanne said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After taking care of the animals, Leoni got ready to go into town. She made sure her clothes were clean and pinned her hair neat. She didn’t want to give men - white or colored - any reason to harass her. She had a simple fake gold wedding band that she slipped onto her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready to go,” she heard Hanne say, her voice husky. Leoni looked up and was shocked. The woman had put her hair back up into a hat, but now she was dressed in trousers and a loose shirt with her chest binded. When she clenched her jaw, Hanne could pass nearly as a man. A very beautiful man, but a man. Her heart gave a strange flutter at the sight, as she handed Hanne the band on her finger, reaching for one of her family heirloom rings instead, a simple pearl set in gold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Hanne asked, an infectious smile on her face. She hooked her thumbs into her belt and shrugged her shoulders, leaning back on her heels. Leoni had seen countless men do the same thing but none had the startling effect of Hanne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re quite handsome,” Leoni said emphatically. Hanne offered her an elbow as they went out to the truck, opening the passenger door for Leoni.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip to town went smooth, despite the increasingly bad weather. Leoni wished she had brought a cloth to wear over her face. Even the sky was an ugly shade of brownish-gray as a result. It was clear the men at the store respected her more with a “husband” in tow, and there were no comments about her, or her figure, or whether she knew what she was doing. When someone looked too close, Hanne moved protectively close to her, and also hefted up some of the heavy bags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conditions were only getting worse and anxiety chewed its way through Leoni. She couldn’t take a hit to the farm, but she began going to all the windows in the house and making sure they were sealed shut. The dust made it evident where the cracks and warps were in the house, and what she couldn’t seal with a hammer and wood, she covered with old clothes. Hanne helped with the work outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni was hammering blankets in the mud room over a crack when the door slammed open. Hanne was filthy again and ripped off her bandanna, showing a clear line over her nose and mouth that hadn’t been exposed. “There’s a storm coming, Miss Leoni.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” she swore, and Leoni grabbed a scarf to wrap her hair and face, making sure the door that lead to the house proper was all the way shut. She went outside and was immediately bombarded with dust and dirt. She could barely see in front of her and grabbed a rope nearby, making tying it to a pipe near the house. With what visibility she had, she made her way to the barn and tied it to a gutter that snaked its way down. The wind, bitter and filthy, tried to work its way into her entire body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in the mud room, she looked down, rubbing her eyes clean with the inside of her scarf. She was disgusting, and she stripped down to her slip rather than bring it back into the house. Hanne had done the same and was shaking out the boots, looking for any snakes or scorpions that made their way inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni was exhausted. She went to the sink and washed her face and let her hair down, shaking out the tight kinky curls. She was exhausted. It was always something or another. She hated the fat tears rolling down her face, but she couldn’t stop them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Leoni,” she heard Hanne say. She was in a simple white tank and her underwear, her two heavy braids hanging down either side of her chest. Leoni marveled again at her height, her brown skin, the depth of her dark eyes. “It’ll be okay,” she said. “I’m here to help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne wrapped her arms around Leoni and she rested her head on Hanne’s chest, hearing her steady heart beat. It helped. She focused on Hanne’s fingers brushing over her ribs, her strong arms, and the knowledge that this woman had been sent by God Herself just to make her life more wonderful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Leoni finished crying they sat in the living room and Hanne looked through the different books she owned. “Do you think you could read to me?” Hanne asked. Leoni stood up and sorted through what she had, finally settling on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dusty Answer</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Rosamond Lehmann. She sat down, and Hanne put her head on Leoni’s lap so they could pass the stormy night away.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Honeysuckle Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW for racial slurs, homophobia, parental abuse, animal death</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Over the next two months, they lost almost half their livestock. Hanne could do nothing against the onslaught of dust storms that swept across the panhandle, decimating the ranch Leoni loved so dearly. Every morning she had to go check and see which crops had been eroded, and which animals managed to survive, despite their best efforts. The dirt was everywhere. Leoni had a cough that worried Hanne at night, placing her ear on the woman’s chest to check for any rattling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this morning was the first time they lost one of the horses, and Hanne screamed into the sky, which was cruelly bright blue in the face of all the devastation. Leoni was good at being strong - too strong. Where Hanne wore her emotions out loud, finally free and able to out from under her father’s them, Leoni kept them inside. She thought the outburst in the kitchen would be a new start but instead, it had been glazed over with pretty smiles again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Hanne minded the smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t mind anything about Leoni - lord above, she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. And she had truly loved Nina, with all her fiery passion and generous curves. Leoni had a quieter strength, with eyes so dark Hanne wanted to dive into them. Leoni had the kind of features that made Hanne want to bend down on one knee and try her hand at poetry. Being able to hold Leoni at night in the same bed was her holy work, and Hanne was utterly devoted. Whatever brewing between them was unspoken and unacted upon. But she had noticed the books Leoni had, and the way she smiled appreciatively at Hanne riding astride a horse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dressing up as her “husband” to get food in town was the highlight of Hanne’s life. Not necessarily dressing up as a man - Hanne didn’t care about that. But having an excuse to hold Leoni’s hand or put an arm around her waist in public. And the fact that even in full view of others, Leoni never shied away from her touch. Didn’t push her away. Not like Nina.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne ran her hands on the neck of the fallen horse, the skin already cool to the touch. She had no idea what to do with a thousand pound horse. They would likely need to hire someone. So she took a blanket and covered him, before going back to the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni was brewing coffee in the kitchen. She was a sight in a simple cotton dress. Hanne had noticed Leoni loved to wear pale colors and pastels, rosey hues that stood out against her dark skin. Her thick curly hair was a kinky-coily explosion around her face, softening the high cheekbones. How Leoni hadn’t been snatched up by a lovesick fool already, Hanne had no idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How bad is it today?” Leoni asked, seeing the slump of Hanne’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad,” she admitted. “We lost Peanut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni froze. “Oh no. Peanut?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Hanne said, and she meant it. Despite the layer of grime on her, Leoni reached forward and pulled her into a hug. Hanne squeezed tight - the months now as a ranch hand made her wiry, bringing back the muscles she had sorely missed and her skin was gloriously bronze brown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do what we need to do today,” Leoni said, rubbing her hand over her face. “Then we can go find someone who can help us move the body.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni and Hanne soon discovered it was prohibitively expensive to have someone move the corpse. Leoni’s frustration mounted visibly as she even offered them $10 on the spot just to do it, $10 they didn’t have to spare. They were overwhelmed - every ranch had dead animals and a farm being run by a negro woman and colored “man” were low in their list of priorities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne and Leoni ended up rolling the corpse onto a tarp and dragging it out behind the ranch. It was grueling, unforgiving work, and that night the howls of the coyotes let them know Leoni’s new plan was successful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went into the stables to clean up, and Hanne watched as Leoni worked tirelessly. She was shorter than Hanne by a head, and not quite as strong, but before Hanne she’d been doing this work more or less by herself, only able to hire help for the big projects. But sleeping in Leoni’s bed, even without touching her in the ways Hanne </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeply</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to, was enough payment for a lifetime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni hummed and sang to herself as she worked, filling the melancholy Texas air with Billie, Ella, and Louis.  When they finished, the sky had long since dipped under the horizon and Hanne’s muscles ached. Still, she went to get water from the pump so the two of them could splash their face. Leoni took off her dress despite the cold air, leaving her in the well-worn shift she typically had on underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It may have been faded and threadbare, but it was Hanne’s favorite piece of clothing Leoni owned. It left little to her imagination, short enough for Hanne to see the little divots and dimples in Leoni’s thighs before they disappeared under the hem, and she imagined running her fingers over the delightful texture.  She was jolted from her daydreaming when Leoni took Hanne’s hand in her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you dance with me?” Leoni asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne’s mouth flailed open and closed like a fish. “Yes,” she finally managed to stay.  Leoni sang in a rich voice - it seemed there was nothing she couldn’t do.  It was a slow rendition of Honeysuckle Rose by Fats Waller.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Every honey bee fills with jealousy</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>When they see you out with me</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Goodness knows, you’re my honeysuckle rose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When you’re passin by flowers droop and sigh</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>And I know the reason why</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Goodness knows, you’re my honeysuckle rose.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They moved slowly, Hanne holding Leoni’s hand in one, the other wrapped around her waist. She wasn’t as soft as Nina but Leoni was no small thing either and Hanne resisted the urge to reach lower and feel Leoni’s generous hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t buy sugar, you just have to touch my cup</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You’re my sugar, its sweeter when you stir it up.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>When I’m taking sips from your tasty lips</span>
  </em>
  <em></em>
    <span></span><br/>

  
  <em>
    <span>Seems  the honey fairly drips</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em></em>
  <span>Goodness knows -</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni suddenly stopped and tipped forward. Hanne’s world tilted sideways as Leoni pushed their lips together gently at first, testing the waters. Hanne deepened the kiss, Leoni’s lips impossibly plush against her. She traced her tongue along the bottom one before biting softly, Leoni letting out a long sigh. She threw her arms around Hanne’s shoulders and pulled her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them stood like that, desperately kissing, their bodies pushed as close together as possible. Hanne let her hands slide down this time to grip Leoni’s rear and she felt Leoni smile against her mouth. It wasn’t until their lips were raw that they finally parted, Leoni’s swollen lips only making Hanne want to dive in again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leoni,” Hanne said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been trying so hard to fight it,” she whispered back. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne had never considered it. Nina said it, but only after Hanne complimented her. She had always been too tall, too dark. Too Apache, to be considered beautiful. To hear it from Leoni? Then it must be true. The two of them went back to the house to properly wash up before going to bed. Leoni welcomed Hanne’s touch that night, and Hanne was more than happy to devote herself to it. It was a lazy and slow exploration, and Leoni returned the ministrations until they finally slept in the early morning hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne woke up feeling hopeful, especially when Leoni immediately welcomed her to breakfast with a long, lazy kiss, Fats Waller playing his much-jauntier version of Honeysuckle Rose on the record player. Leoni had it wrong though - she was the sweetness of sugar, not Hanne. Hanne simply wanted to be on the receiving end of all that sugar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the day relaxing. Laying on the couch or in front of the fireplace, enjoying each other’s company. Hanne loved the weight of Leoni laying half on top of her, chin perched on her chest, tracing her finger up and down  the back of Leoni’s thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been to New Mexico,” Leoni replied when Hanne told her about the rural reservation she’d grown up on. “I’ve never left Texas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“New Mexico isn’t that fancy,” Hanne teased. “But I went to school in the panhandle after I was about eight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So far from home?” Leoni asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne closed her eyes against the painful memories. “Yes. But I’d rather not talk about it. I want to talk about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni nodded, but Hanne could tell she wasn’t ready to drop it. “What do you want to know Miss Hanne?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you always known?” Hanne asked. “That you, you know,” she trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I liked to kiss beautiful women?” Leoni teased. Hanne was shocked how easily she said it. No secrecy. No dancing around like Nina. No refusing to admit it. “I’ve always liked to kiss anyone. Boys, girls. I went to an all-girls Negro school for awhile and it was hard not to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like both?” Hanne asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I read some fancy papers on it before,” Leoni said. “They call it bi-sexual. Isn’t that something? I have too much love. But you like women?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only women,” Hanne confirmed. “I’m pretty sure. I’ve never felt any fondness for men like I feel for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni smiled and dropped a kiss onto Hanne’s collarbone. “I’m glad I get to be a subject of your fondness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne wrapped her arms around Leoni and rolled over so Leoni was underneath her, propping herself up on her arms. Leoni smiled up at her with those big dark eyes, framed by her thick curly hair as Hanne’s copper locks fell around her. She wanted to frame this perfect moment. The feeling. She trailed a finger down the side of Leoni’s face, down to her sternum before moving to her side. She leaned down to drop yet another kiss on her lips. The farm work was never going to get done with how distracted she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door and the two of them started. After a moment there was a more insistent knock. Angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honeysuckle,” Leoni said. “Fetch me the shotgun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne stood up and did so, grabbing the shotgun Leoni kept on the wall and handing it to her. Leoni tossed on a high-necked long-sleeved dress as the knocking became more aggressive, shaking the door on its hinges. Hanne hastily tied her hair back in a ponytail and made sure her own shirt was straight, moving behind the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni took a couple steadying breaths before opening the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is she?” asked a voice that haunted Hanne’s nightmares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re bringing an awful lot of chest in your voice to my property sir,” Leoni said with a sweet smile. “You’ll have to be more specific.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hanne,” he said. “Hanne Brum. I know she’s here. My pastor saw her in town and said she was out here cavorting with some -” his voice became disgusted. “Negro woman.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kindly ask you to step back,” Leoni said. Her voice was still mild but there was steel behind it. “There’s no Hanne Brum here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen here you whore,” her father threatened. “I will burn this place to the ground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t be the first one who’s tried,” Leoni responded. Hanne could see her, but she didn’t even glance Hanne’s way as her father threatened her. “I reckon you got some wooden crosses at your disposal too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Brum responded. “But if you don’t hand her over, I will take that gun from you myself and put it through your head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne was frozen. Her father was always going to destroy her happiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” she finally said. She wouldn’t let her father’s poison hurt Leoni. “Father. Stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left from behind the door, holding her hands up. Leoni had cocked the shotgun, the butt tucked into her shoulder and a serious look in her eyes. “Hanne step back,” she warned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you could debase yourself further than your sister-in-law yet you’re living here with a nigger woman,” Brum said to her. “I raised you better than this. I gave you the best education and let you into my home, and this is what you do to our family? Your brother? Me?” He narrowed his eyes at Hanne. “This is what you do to God?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guilt wracked Hanne, the ugly slur against Leoni coiling in her stomach. She hated him more than she’d ever hated anyone. He had the icy rage in his voice that usually prefaced a beating. All she needed to do was get him away from Leoni, away from the ranch. “This is my fault. I’ll go back with you. Leoni was just hiring me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>SAW YOU!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he roared, raising his hands up. Leoni felt something inside her shrivel and die. How could Leoni look at her the same after this. “They saw you smiling at her. Dressed like a man. No daughter of mine should be such an abomination. I clearly was too lenient on you. I should have chained you down when I had the chance,” he hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not following God’s example,” Leoni shot back. “Do you know Zachariah 9:10?” she said. The ugly purple-red color of her father’s face said no. “This is what the Lord Almighty said: ‘Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor. Do not plot evil against each other.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that sound like what you’re doing, Brum?” Leoni said. Hanne couldn’t have loved Leoni more if she tried. Bible versus ran over Hanne like water on oil. It was easy to forget that Leoni actually exemplified what the book wrote. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne thought he had seen her father at his worse. She was wrong. He pulled a gun from his back belt and aimed it straight at Hanne. “Stand down whore, or I will kill her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was it. This was how Hanne was going to die. And she was so sorry Leoni was going to have to see it. Tears were rolling down her face. When had that happened. “Papa please,” she begged. “It’s not what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They heard a third gun being cocked, and a voice with a thick foreign accent. “Please stop aiming a gun at my wife,” it said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne, Leoni, and Brum turned to see a complete stranger. The first thing Hanne noticed was that despite only having one arm, the other being a jointed hook action, he was aiming a rifle steadily at her father’s head. He had a bit of a strange face - an aquiline nose and green eyes, prettily dotted with freckles and blonde hair kept short and neat. He had a frown on his face, and his eyes didn’t waver from Brum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wife?” her father asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume you scared her so much, we didn’t have a chance to tell you,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the anger seemed to disappear from Brum’s face as he looked between Hanne and the stranger. “Who are you?” he asked brusquely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adrik,” he said. When her father lowered the gun, Hanne walked towards the strange man. “Adrik Zhabin. Again I would like to ask why you are holding a gun to my wife’s head.” His consonants were heavy and hard to distinguish at times. He glanced at Leoni. “Leoni is our friend, who has been kind enough to provide lodging. I was running into town. So again - why are you holding a gun to my wife’s head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this true?” Brum asked, looking at Hanne. Unsure what else to do, she nodded. “Yes. I didn’t know how to tell you I got married Papa. A couple months ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brum looked at him, appraising. Despite his accent, which Hanne didn’t recognize, and a missing arm, he was a perfectly normal-looking white man. A fact her father seemed to also notice. “You look like a decent man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Irrelevant,” the man - Adrik - responded, and Hanne wanted to chuckle in spite of herself, and the tears drying on her face “Are you okay darling?” he asked. With the gun lowered and looking at her, Hanne could study his face more. He had narrower lips, especially compared to Leoni, but they were pleasantly shaped. He had sharp cheekbones and a relatively pointed chin.  He moved to give her a tight hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. He kept his hand on her back, high enough that Hanne didn’t feel like he was being untoward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, trying to imagine she was speaking to Leoni instead. He was a couple inches shorter than her, but still taller than Leoni. “Do you know what you want for dinner tonight?” she asked, hoping to sell it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your wedding ring?” Brum asked suspiciously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who has money for wedding rings in these times,” Adrik said. “I am sorry we did not meet earlier, but I am very tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne’s mind seemed to leave her body as Adrik distracted her father. She kept glancing at his arm. Leoni had disappeared inside the house, but she could feel the presence of the woman watching. She would need to apologize for her father and the hateful things she said. “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” her father said, clearly impressed by the (white) man at his ‘former’ lesbian daughter’s side. “Please come to my home for dinner sometime soon. Maybe in a couple weeks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will send a note,” Adrik responded. No promises. She wished she could talk to her father that way. “The farm always needs more work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed outside until her father’s car left and disappeared in the distance. Then she whirled around to the man. Adrik Zhabin. Leoni also came back outside, looking tired. She still had the shotgun in her hand, dress swaying in the winter wind around her legs. Even like this, she was beautiful. A look passed in the man’s eyes and Hanne was worried. Did he harbor racism too? But he simply knelt down and put the rifle on the dirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry ladies. But I know an emergency when I see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you do that?” Hanne asked. “Who are you really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister is like you,” he said simply. “I was not lying. My name is Adrik Zhabin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Leoni asked softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you,” he said in his rough voice, extending his hand out. “Leoni Hilli. It is my  deepest pleasure to finally meet you.” Hanne’s eyebrows shot up. Leoni took his hand and instead of a shake he gave it a quick kiss on the knuckles. Now she was getting a bit irritated. “I am sorry, I feel like I know you better than I do. I am here because your cousin sent me from Chicago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have any family in Chicago,” Leoni said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesper Fahey. He wanted me to bring you this.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a letter, then went over to the truck that Hanne only noticed now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni slung her shotgun on her back and began to read. By the time she finished, the man had returned, dropping a briefcase at her feet. “This is also for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni dropped down to her knee and opened it. She had barely flung it open when she gasped. “What is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your cousin made it very clear if I didn’t bring this, he would find and kill me.” If it was a joke, it was a horrible delivery due to his flat expression. Hanne walked over to peer at the briefcase herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was full of money.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. In A Quiet Lagoon, Devils Dwell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Adrik had never known what to expect in America. He’d heard it was the land of opportunity, where anyone could be successful. But mostly, he knew he needed to escape his home. Leningrad had become a death knell for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved to the beautiful baroque city as a child from the countryside, where their neighbors had grown distrusting of his family. A theme that would reoccur through every shitty apartment they lived in, and every job he took until there were no more he could take. Nadia and Tamar had a better time - the Kazakh woman that was a wife in everything but name to Nadia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to be hired in the factory jobs in which he excelled due to his disability, as Stalin’s five-year-plan gripped the country in industrialization, he saw no choice but to leave the Soviet Union in search of something more. Nadia and Tamar followed him across the Atlantic ocean to Ellis island. Adrik would have liked to think his parents would follow too, but they were dead. Adrik was thankful they didn’t live to see the terror Stalin plunged the country into - the way they targeted the philosophers and artists that had made up his parent’s circle of friends. It never escaped him how so many of Stalin’s “enemies of the state” ended up being Jewish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nadia settled in New York City with Tamar, but it was too much for Adrik, who missed the quiet life of the country. He found himself working on a rail line that took him to Chicago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was there he met Colm Fahey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Irish-American man had seen Adrik looking for jobs - and being turned away. It was hard times for all and no one wanted to hire a one-armed Soviet man with a thick accent. “Come to my pub,” he’d said. “We’ll put you to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Colm did. Adrik was grateful for the work - he never treated Adrik as incapable and his son - who Adrik had been surprised to find was a young black man - managed to rig up a prosthetic for him. It wasn’t fancy but it got the job done, and the paychecks were more than anyone else was paying at the time - enough for Adrik to have a real savings and send some back to his sister to help her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesper for his part, was a great friend. The tall man would stop by with his beau, a lovely woman named Camille, and worked alongside Adrik after college courses for the day. Where Adrik was more of the silent and head-down type, Jesper was more than happy to carry on the conversation, with both Adrik and Camille, who typically sat in the corner of the pub and studied, chiming in with jokes and her own stories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spent a lot of time in the Fahey family apartment. It was warm and loving, and seemed insulated away from the harshness of the Depression, and despite being an outsider, they welcomed him in. He was also able to continue practicing his English. Camille was studying to be an English teacher, and she was thrilled to have an apt pupil. “Your accent isn’t any worse than Jesper’s when he moved to Chicago, and that’s because he was from Alabama.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone is a Mid-Atlantic cotillon darling, darlin’,” Jesper teased from across the living room. When Adrik was tired of sorting out his syllables, he studied some of the portraits in the living room. There was one particularly striking woman in a wedding photo with a black man. She looked similar to Aditi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is that?” Adrik asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesper walked over by him. “That’s my cousin Leoni and her ex husband,” Jesper said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik’s eyebrows shot up. “Divorce?” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dead,” Jesper answered. “They were only married a few months when she was eighteen. Its Texas.” Adrik didn’t fully understand, but he did understand the fear of those small American towns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik leaned in to study her face. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. She had a demure smile, a round face with high cheekbones, and dark skin. Her large dark brown eyes were captivating. Leoni. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does she do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She takes care of the family ranch down in Texas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With no husband?” Adrik asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She probably does better than I could,” Jesper said sheepishly. “Husband or not. I should really write to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik was able to piece more bits of information about the Fahey family - and Leoni - over following months. He learned Aditi had a brother, and Leoni was her niece from him. The family ranch and farm had been in the family ever since Emancipation. Adrik couldn’t wrap his head around the horrors of slavery and sharecropping, despite everything the woman shared. It was clear that beauty ran strong in the Hilli family, as well as tenacity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Adrik eventually moved into the Fahey place, they turned their attic into a room for him. He found his home amongst them and their mixed-race family, much better than even his fellow white people who looked at his Slavic heritage with suspicion, and he knew they would dislike him only more if they knew his religion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aditi was more than happy to have another person to dote on, feeding him Southern cooking. Colm also enjoyed Adrik’s presence, since Jesper spent most of his time at school, working, or with his now-fiancé.  He saw more pictures of Leoni in the family albums that Aditi was more than willing to show him. At her cotillon, and more wedding photos, and a family photo as they were adults.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a snowy December when Adrik found himself celebrating his first Christmas with the Fahey family. The moment Jesper found out Adrik had no plans other than reading a book in bed, they demanded he at least come over for dinner. It was pleasant, and Adrik was happy to at least find it wasn’t particularly religious for their family, even if it wasn’t as nonreligious as Jesper tried to insist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the night wound down and Jesper’s parents talked to Camille about her family, Jesper pulled Adrik to the side. “I need a big favor,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was how Adrik ended up in a truck headed down to Texas. He knew his blonde hair and green eyes were their own form of protection but he was deeply uncomfortable the entire time, often choosing to sleep in the truck rather than the segregated hotels he passed. But a promise was a promise, and he owed much to the Faheys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it’s how he ended up holding a gun to a man’s head at the Hilli ranch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he watched Brum drive off, he had to stop the way his heart thumped erratically in his chest. He didn’t care about men like Brum - they were awful. But how he could spew such a hateful slur at a woman like Leoni.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even in front of him in a modest dress and worn boots, she was a vision. She looked thinner than the photos he’d seen, but was still radiant, especially against the desolate Texas backdrop. The woman next to her also had striking features. She wasn’t black but she wasn’t white either, and Jesper had warned Adrik about the anti-miscegenation laws in Texas that forbade relationships between whites and blacks. So he made a gamble, telling this woman’s clearly unhinged father they were married.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you?” Leoni asked, staring at the briefcase. “Where did you get this money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your cousin gave it to me to bring to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> get this?” Leoni asked. Lord, her voice was lovely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t ask,” Adrik said honestly. It seemed best not to ask how the Fahey family had so much wealth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expected more suspicion from Leoni - the same that was radiating from the woman next to her. Her lover, probably. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he told himself. Instead she stood, dusted off her front, and then walked right up to him. She was tall -not as tall as the other woman - but only a couple inches below him. Her face this close was overwhelming, filling his entire field of vision. Then she hugged him. “Thank you Mr. Zhabin,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He carefully wrapped his own arm around her, making sure that the hook of his other arm didn’t poke her at all. “It is my pleasure,” he whispered back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she pulled away there were tears streaming down her face. “Please come in,” she said. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests. This is Hanne,” she said, introducing the other woman. Adrik extended his hand to the woman and she looked him up and down before extending it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hanne Alvarez,” she said. Her voice was distrusting but not cold.  “Thanks for what you did back there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was disgusting,” Adrik said. It was true. He just looked like a bully, a weak man who had nothing better to do than threaten women. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about our engagement earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That drew a smile from the other woman. “Well you heard Leoni, come inside,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni was right, it wasn’t much. And it was also clear that she had done the best she could to spruce up the place and fix it up.  She went to the refrigerator and grabbed some stuff her arms full. “This calls for a celebration,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about the livestock?” Hanne asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you just make sure they have enough food?” Leoni asked sweetly. Adrik looked between the two of them. It was clear that Hanne was completely smitten with the other woman, and with good reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to be alone with him?” Hanne said, motioning at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik took off his coat and removed his prosthetic with ease. “There. Now I’m unarmed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni looked mortified, but Hanne burst into laughter. “You’re not too bad Mr. Zhabin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne tied a bandanna around her face and headed out the door, leaving Adrik alone with her. Leoni, radiant as the sun. She flitted about the kitchen and soon the gas stove was going. It didn’t escape Adrik that the cupboards were now nearly empty. But if Leoni noticed, she said nothing. She hummed as she flitted about, Adrik scared to move. If he distracted her, maybe the spell being woven would be broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she turned to him on her own. “Where are you from?” she asked. She circled around her mouth with a finger. “Your accent is lovely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik screwed his face into a wry smile. “It is not, but I appreciate you lying. I am from Leningrad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soviet Union, right?” Leoni asked him. He nodded. “How long have you been here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long.” he did quick calculations. “Around a year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to America,” she said. She placed a cup of tea in front of him. It was weak, but he would drink swill if she placed it in front of him. “Can you tell me about my family?” she asked. Her voice was eager, her eyes bright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik answered her questions dutifully, and even attempted to use more than a few words at a time. It was valiant, but Leoni didn’t miss a beat and pushed him for more answers. She maintained eye contact, never wavering even if he stumbled over his words. She only split her attention when she stood up to prepare food, the sizzle of meat filling the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that pork?” he asked gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Leoni replied. “Do you not eat it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik weighed the potential answers in his head. “I do not, sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem, I didn’t start cooking them all. Give me a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wrapped up one of the slices and put it back in the freezer and got out another one, as well as a second pan. “Chicken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik smiled. He didn’t even have to explain it couldn’t be cooked in the same dish. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni put on some music and Big Band tunes filled the air, Leoni dancing in place as she moved around the kitchen. It was utterly captivating. He saw no sign of her deceased husband anywhere - it was like he didn’t exist at all in this ranch and it made Adrik curious. Had she only married him out of obligation? He knew his sister had felt similarly, but never made it to the altar.. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne walked into the house and went straight to a back room, and Adrik heard the sounds of splashing. When she arrived, her long reddish-brown hair was down around her shoulders, and she was dressed in denim pants tucked into clean boots and a buttoned down long-sleeve shirt. The masculine way she dressed reminded him a bit of Tamar, although Tamar was quite short in comparison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he behave himself?” Hanne asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfectly,” Leoni said. “Mr. Zhabin, I insist you stay here for the night. Don’t waste your time or money with a hotel, they’re all far away in Lubbock proper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to impose -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>insist,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Leoni said, and the edge in her Texan drawl told him there was no room for argument. So he nodded. “Good. We’ll make up the guest bedroom for you.” She quickly pulled her hand away as hot oil bubbled in the pan, grabbing a pair of tongs. She made plates for all of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she walked past Hanne, the other woman reached a hand around her waist, giving her a hug. Adrik didn’t miss the look Hanne shot him, as Leoni let out a giggle. “Watch yourself Miss Hanne before I spill this on your lap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had made a well seasoned and lightly fried piece of chicken for him, with a roll of bread. She tucked into a pork chop with Hanne. Adrik had no idea how to tell Hanne he wasn’t going to do anything. Adrik put his prosthetic arm back on, jimmying his fork just so that he could pin it down and cut into the meat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like any assistance?” Leoni asked in a chipper voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,”  he said. “I am used to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited for the inevitable question, but it never came. They simply ate, Leoni and Hanne moving the discussion to farm things. With the amount of work they had to get done on a given day, Adrik was shocked they had time for anything else. No wonder they were both so wiry and lean, especially on strict poverty-induced rations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik gently cleared his throat to get their attention. “I would like to assist if possible,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you mean?” Hanne asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I can’t do heavy work, loading and lifting. But I can operate farm machinery, and I am good with organization and planning. I did much of these things in Leningrad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Leoni asked. Hanne looked between the two of them. “Can you tell me more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He explained about his time in the factories and even a brief stint as a foreman, and how he had grown up in a rural area and was not unfamiliar with what animals required. “I have plenty of money thanks to Jesper,” he added. “I wouldn’t need more than a small stipend. And I could help for awhile with your father,” he said, motioning to Hanne. “Long enough for us to get a divorce.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a bad idea,” Leoni said. “Welcome to the Hilli ranch, Adrik Zhabin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a flush on his face, but this wasn’t caused by the winter air.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Pralines & Cream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Leoni wasn’t too sure what to think about their new companion. The surly Soviet man had proved more than useful already. He slept in Hanne’s former room, and Hanne moved into the master bedroom with Leoni. If he thought anything ill of them, he didn’t show it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing Leoni did was count out the money on the dining room table in the morning. Her fingers trembled at the cash, even as explanations for the sudden wealth raced through her mind. Did they sell the Alabama farm? Why were they even in Chicago? But now she was staring $35,000 in the face. It was more money than she would make over the course of five or more years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my word,” Hanne said when she walked into the dining room, seeing the money spread out. “What is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relief,” Leoni replied. She began to carefully place the money back in the briefcase. She wondered at the best way to stash it. Clearly she wouldn’t be able to take it all to the bank now - that would arouse too much suspicion. She could deposit in small amounts, but would ultimately need to find a place to stash it that was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced outside, where heavy dust hung on the air turning everything a sickly gray-yellow. She dreamt every night about packing it in - heading somewhere with clean air and selling the farm to one of the rich white men that knocked on her door every so often. She sniffed, unsure when the tears had started rolling down her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne rushed to her side, wrapping her from behind in her arms. “What’s wrong my love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just happy,” she sniffed, raising a hand up to hold Hanne’s forearm. “I don’t even know what to do or think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Adrik walked out, Hanne straightened up, but kept a hand on Leoni’s shoulder. “Good morning ladies,” he said. “How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m well,” Leoni answered. “How did you sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” he replied. “It’s quiet out here, compared to Chicago. I like it,” He smiled at them. “It reminds me of home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s home to you?” Leoni asked, and motioned for him to sit down at the table with her. She took the briefcase off and stood up to make oatmeal for the three of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew up a couple hours from Leningrad,” he replied. “Are you two from here? Texas?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni stirred the pot on the stove, looking over at Hanne. The woman had her long hair down - a rich reddish copper color that complimented her light brown skin. She looked a world different from the white man sitting at her table. Fair skinned, light-eyed, light hair. He looked closer to Hanne’s father and brother, but  instead of a square jaw and angry eyes, he had an angular and pointed face with high cheekbones and freckles that were liberally peppered on his face. He wasn’t unattractive, but there was something uniquely foreign to her in the way he held himself, talked, and acted. Accent aside. He was a bit of an enigma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to go into town today and get some supplies,” Leoni started. “There’s a white store that has better hardware, and you’re my ticket in there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A white store?” he asked. Hanne and Leoni stared at him. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell kind of life are you living?” Hanne asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honeysuckle,” Leoni chided.  Then she pointed her wooden spoon at Adrik. “You’re south of the Mason Dixie now sweetheart. Separate but equal, or so they say. I know I can fix some of the broken pipes. I’ll write down the parts and you ask for them, they’ll be nice, and then I won’t hear the rattle every time we use warm water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m white?” he asked. “That’s it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it,” Hanne grumbled. “You got some catching up to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had the good sense to look chastised as Leoni dropped the bowls of oatmeal in front of them. “Thank you, Miss Hilli,” he replied, looking down. Yes, Leoni mused. He was handsome in a strange way, of sharp angles and painted over with a light hand. Not the deep saturated color of her and Hanne’s own color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni spent breakfast writing a list out to him in a neat script. Excitement ran through her at the idea of new equipment. “Feel free to tip them extra to load up the truck, Hanne and I will help when you get back,” she said, glancing down at his arm. If he noticed, his expression didn’t change. It was quite a severe one. “Actually,” she said. “If its alright with Hanne I’ll go in with you. I’ll take a walkabout while you’re there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne detailed her plans for the day to Leoni, and the two shared a quick kiss goodbye. Leoni dressed in a simple cotton dress in light purple and tied a ribbon on the ends of her braids. Grabbing the keys to the truck she headed into town with Adrik. It was uncomfortable driving with him. She wondered if people who saw them thought she was his maid. But she pushed those thoughts from his head and after a half hour, they arrived to the colored side of Amarillo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You take over here,” she said, getting out. “I’ll meet you back here in about an hour and a half, that should give you enough time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded at her. “Of course, Miss Hilli.” The ‘s’ was heavy on his tongue, almost a z sound. It was charming. “I will see you soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni stood for a moment to watch the truck drive away before turning to the street. The colored part of town was lively if dilapidated, like everything else in her life. She went to the store, deciding to indulge in some hair products for her and Hanne, some fabric for clothes, and vinyl records. The new record phonographs were all the rage and while her radio had made do - it would be so lovely to play records in her home that she wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shopkeepers were happy to see her and asked how she was doing, reminiscing about when she was little, and her folks. It was a sense of familiarity and comfort she couldn’t find elsewhere. She also picked up sheet music for the dusty old piano that had seen better days and hired a negro piano tuner to come out the following day and fix it up. She wanted to breathe life into the ranch again if it was the last thing she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time was up far too quickly when she sat on a bench outside the park, eating a small sweet she’d picked up. She loved sweets, and it had been so long since she’d tasted a honey roll she didn’t make herself. It almost brought tears to her eyes as she wiped the crumbs off her lips. Her ugly little truck pulled into view and when it pulled to a stop, she was happy to see the bed had been filled with everything she needed. Wood, fresh paint, pipes, and everything else on her list. She examined the contents and grinned, even seeing some extra goodies she hadn’t asked for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s all this?” she asked, smile stretching so wide it hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A welcome to town gift,” Adrik replied. He had a wry expression on his gift. “You were right, they were more than happy to help me. Had some nasty things to say too,” his frown deepened. “This place. It is not as nice as your farm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll mind yourself to remember that Mr. Zhabin,” she replied before opening the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what that means,” he said sheepishly. “But I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and lightly pushed his upper arm. A cute blush colored his face as she settled into the passenger seat. “You can drive,Mr. Zhabin,” she said. “Before we go, there’s an ice cream shop I always wanted to visit but cannot go into - lets stop there for a treat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dutifully followed the directions and parked on the other side of the road while he grabbed the treats. She was imagining what the pralines would taste like when she saw Adrik walking out. But his trip back to the truck was stopped by a familiar face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no,” she whispered. Jarl Brum. He had stopped Adrik mid walk and they were talking. Leoni immediately sunk in the seat and lay down flat, grateful for the long front row seat of the truck, peeking over the window. The conversation seemed to last forever, and when Adrik head back to the truck she ducked back down, then curled up on the floor by the passenger side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrik arched an eyebrow before climbing in and starting the truck, handing her the cone of ice cream. She graciously accepted it from her position on the floor and he drove very slowly around a corner. “Would you like to come up, little mouse?” he asked. Although his tone was dry, his eyes were bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Sorry. He’s just an awful man,” she said, climbing out from down below and licking the ice cream. It tasted perfect. “And I’m in no mood to have slurs hurled at me again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is quite terrible,” Adrik agreed. “And he wants his son-in-law to go to dinner in a couple weeks.” When they went to a stop light, he reached over with his arm and plucked a stray piece of lint from her hair. “Pardon me,” he said before discarding it. “Should I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we want to continue this, you definitely should,” Leoni said. She hardly expected Hanne to pass as this man’s wife, but they only needed to for Jarl. “I’ll stitch a dress for Hanne and we have some old family jewelry you can use as rings, we’ll make it work. You’ll have to get on her good side yourself Mr. Zhabin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course Miss Hilli,” he says dutifully. “Would you like to drive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thank you,” Leoni replies, licking her ice cream. “You should have gotten one for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no way to carry two out,” he replied. His voice had no inflection in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni’s mouth fell open. “I’m so sorry Mr. Zhabin, I should have thought about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no, it is fine. I am used to it. You are not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She appreciated the straightforward manner he talked to her. Whether her race or sex, people liked to beat around the bush. It was a refreshing change of pace. “Well, I will endeavor to be more aware,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just as I will for you,” he replied solemnly. “I don’t like these men. Colored. White. Back home, people fight over more important things like communism and intellect.” There was a twitch in his mouth and she realized he was actually joking. She smiled in response. “For what it is worth Miss Hilli - thank you. For allowing me to stay with you and your lady.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leoni smiled at that. “You’re welcome. You have a home with me as long as you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled to himself, and the two of them became quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>* * * * *</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh absolutely not,” Hanne said. “I will not sit through a dinner with my father, my ex-lover, and my ex-lover’s husband.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean your brother?” Leoni asked, trying to imitate Adrik’s straightlaced expression. She immediately failed and dissolved into giggles. “All you have to do is pretend, my sweet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne looked at Adrik with a look of confusion. “I suppose he’s not terrible to look at.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is my goal,” Adrik responded drily.  “Not terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hush,” Leoni said, waving them both off. She made them tea and was seasoning beef for the stew. “Your father doesn’t seem incredibly intelligent, given the beliefs that he has. Why don’t we figure out the story tonight so we can practice until then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she prepared dinner for them, Adrik and Hanne talked to each other about what best to do. Leoni smiled to herself and after washing her hands, went about setting up the new record phonograph. The other two were deep in conversation and only noticed when she started playing Louis Armstrong. Leoni happily clapped her hands together. “It works!” she said, spinning around. “Oh, this is delightful,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne came up to Leoni and pulled her into a hug before grasping her hand to twirl her around. The two of them danced for a moment before Leoni laughed breathlessly and went to show the fabric she got. In the corner of her eye she saw Adrik sitting at the table. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before he looked down. There was something unreadable in his face. But it was neither judgmental or disapproving. She knew those looks. It was something else altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do know you’re going to have to wear a dress,” Leoni teased Hanne, as she showed off the rich green fabric. “I thought this color would look beautiful on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll wear anything you make for me,” Hanne said. “I’m sure it will be gorgeous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon Adrik joined them in the sitting area, mostly quiet while Leoni chatted enough for all of them, occasionally asking questions about the farm. Leoni detailed her plans to seal everything up as best as possible against the dust. And other changes that would make things better - a fresh coat of paint, some new curtains. Simple things. They would just need to be strategic about how much money they spent, so they didn’t attract too much attention. Maybe the following year they could even have the rodeo again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne went to bed first, but Leoni wasn’t tired. She gave her beau a kiss on the cheek and promised to turn in soon. Adrik was reading a book he must have picked up in town, and they sat in companionable silence. “What are you reading Mr. Zhabin?” she finally asked, as the fires began to dim. “You seem riveted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blush crept over his features and she put the fabric down. She grinned. “Is it bodice ripper?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-a what?” he sputtered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bodice ripper,” she teased. “You know. Strapping young men and innocent debutantes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I know half those words,” he said. “No.” He held up the book and understanding dawned. The Souls of Black Folks by W.E.B. Dubois. “I… I wanted to learn some more. I saw it while I was out today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dubois was an incredible man,” she said. “How do you find it?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Informative,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t hurt your eyes reading,” she said. “It’ll still be there in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Miss Hilli,” he replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Mr. Zhabin,” she said, and stood up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanne was fast asleep when she joined her under the covers, but instinctively wrapped Leoni in her arms. She curled up into the woman, enjoying the warmth and love that she felt radiating through her body. </span>
</p>
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